Control
by MissKittyFisher
Summary: Santana and Quinn if they got together instead of Santana and Brittany in glee. F/F, sexual content, pretty much just a one-shot smut, my first story :)


The school bell rang out, its high pitched whine bouncing across the walls of the schoolroom and out into the corridors that lay beyond, like an electronic shrill take on the Pied Piper. Keeping with tradition, teenagers blindly followed its call, flooding from every door and streaming into the locker-clad hallways in order to keep their pre-ordained and highly anticipated date with the lunch ladies of McKinley High School.

Swinging their bags behind them and stalking the school carpets like predators, the long legs, tight behinds, flat stomachs, sensually long fingers, pert breasts and impossibly haughty, almost unreachable, deliciously, arrogant – fuck it, downright FUCKable faces of seniors Santana Lopez and Quinn Faber came into view around the far corner. Rachel Berry stood transfixed, as if time had slowed down and the pair had managed to seconder the talents of a Hollywood movie slow motion camera. Their gaze strode down the corridor to the doors ahead, moving in unison in a hypnotically sexy rhythm, casting only a quick glance in her direction as if to briefly acknowledge her presence before disappearing to the wider world outside.

Santana and Quinn made their way over to Quinn's car. Slinging their bags into the back, they jumped into the front seats and Quinn revved up the car. Sliding a free hand onto her lover's bare, toned thigh, she reversed the car from its spot and headed towards their usual hideaway.

They'd been dating for more than a year now. Sexual energy had been rife from the time they laid eyes on each other, but had somehow manifested itself in a subtle battle of the bitches before finally breaking through into a torrid, passionate, highly physical affair. When Quinn thought of their love making, which sometimes wasn't love making at all but pure animal carnal desire, she felt her cunt swell and pulsate, and her grip on Santana's thigh instinctively hardened. Santana smirked, and her eyes deepened into dark, lusty pools.

"Hungry?"

"Always."

They pulled up by the side of the lake and with one swift movement Quinn flicked Santana's seat into the flat position. Shifting herself so she straddled the tanned Latina, she raised herself up to view her prize, licking her lips involuntarily and giving in to a quick, low moan that escaped from her throat. Santana allowed her lover to drink her in, the rampant desire she could feel pooling in between her legs intoxicating her. She lifted one hand as if to tug on her hardening nipple, the other she hovered at the hem of her very short gym skirt. She lifted one eyebrow expectantly, waiting.

"Fuck yourself for me." The words dripped from Quinn's soft full lips and seemed to hit Santana's clit like drops of molten fire. She needed no more encouragement and if she'd had her way, this would have been over in seconds, so hot and base was her need. But this, more than anything, was all about Quinn. This was all about the hot, tempestuous, fire and ice, earth-shatteringly beautiful Quinn that sat above her trying to contain herself at the thought of what was about to happen. She wanted to give Quinn everything, she always had done, and these forbidden moments during school had become as addictive as a daily dose of heroin in her need to please, to show just how much she loved her, needed her, wanted her, would do anything for her. Slowly, she pulled the tight t-shirt across her chest, her breasts spilling out in all their glory. She gazed at Quinn under hooded eyes, seeing the instant reaction and revelling in it. Tonight she'd receive the same show of adoration from Quinn but right here, right now, in this moment, she felt bathed in the pulsating glow of content to give her lover her absolute submission.

"Touch your nipples for me."

Santana let her fingers begin to idly stroke the hardened peaks. Every light touch, every feathery fingertip seemed to come not from her own hands but those of Quinn. She bit down on her lip.

"Harder."

She pinched down and twisted, her breath catching in her throat.

"I said HARDER."

As her fingers embraced her nipples in a fierce grip, her cunt began to swell and enflame. Every tweak, every pinch, every twist sent need coursing between her legs. Her lower fingers stroked the fleshy undersides of her breasts creating rivers of goose pumps wherever they went. She closed her eyes and pushed her head back, exposing her throat.

"Pull your skirt up."

Her impossibly long, dark lashes flew open, bringing her back to Quinn, and a smile danced across her face. She moved one hand down to the bottom of the light material, inadvertently brushing against Quinn's hot, taut skin. The gasp she received only served to make her clit throb harder and she felt the blood drain from the rest of her body and course downwards, making her feel like her pussy might explode from the strain. Not long now, she told herself, not long until she lets me. She moved the fabric onto her shaking, flat stomach muscles and waited again, still pinching her right nipple hard, moaning and twitching against the seat.

"Move your panties to the side."

Santana did as she was told, peeling the soaking underwear away and revealing her smooth, swollen outer lips to her lover. Quinn's eyes remained on hers for what felt like forever, before slowly raking their way down the length of her body until finally stopping at the gap between the tops of her thighs.

"Spread your legs for me baby." Her tone was thicker now, filled with need, hanging on to the control that they both loved so much. Santana lifted her butt up from the car seat and twisted her thighs away from her body, feeling the juices between her legs give way and opening her pussy up to the cool air. Immediately the seat beneath was slick with her own wetness, dripping down between the creases and running underneath the skin of her ass. She never stopped being amazed at just how wet Quinn could make her with just one look – and she never stopped revelling in how wet this made Quinn. She ran the tip of her tongue over her teeth and sank her nails into her breast, moaning. Still with her eyes on her twitching pussy, Quinn finally gave her the command she so desperately needed.

"Fuck yourself for me. Come for me Santana, COME for me, come for nobody else but me."

Santana needed no second telling, immediately sinking her own two fingers inside of her. Bucking against her hand, she thrust up against her tight inner walls, immediately hitting the spot she craved above all. Her hand that had been so tightly clasped to her breast now undid itself of its own accord and worked its way down to her tightly coiled bud. Sliding her fingers through her wetness, she began working in a circular, rhythmic motion in time with her fingers' deep thrusting. Her cunt began to swallow her up and she shoved a third finger in there, filling as much as she could. Quinn hummed her delight and Santana looked deep in her eyes as she thrust a fourth. Her body began to vibrate, her eyesight seemed to shatter and fade at the edges, her pussy demanded harder and harder pounding, her lover's eyes seemed to drag her soul out of her very being. She cried out Quinn's name over and over and over again and pushed her body out of her seat, grinding without care, abandoned against her hand. A shot seemed to explode from the depths of her pussy, a whirling, spasmodic cannonball of relief, agony and ecstasy all at the same time. Her walls constricted and convulsed against her fingers, but she knew better than to pull them out. In a haze she rode everything she'd ever known out, tears rolling down the sides of her face as she kept her finger pressed agonisingly tight against her button, not giving herself any let-up but pushing her body to its final limits of desire as was her lover's command. A final shudder ran through her body, causing her muscles to tense, and then it was over. She sank back into the seat and slowly opened her eyes. Quinn looked down at her with an almost twisted look of desire. The blonde placed her hands either side of Santana's head and waited. It was her turn now. The mistress had become the slave – and she was more than fine with that. Santana lifted her dripping hand to Quinn's mouth and she eagerly sucked, licked and lapped her up. Such a heady, aromatic aroma, so feral and full of sex and want and need and unashamed desire, the mere smell of it alone would sometimes make Quinn come. Santana's dark eyes watched her intently, cleaning every single last little drop up. Casting a quick glance at the car dashboard, she noted the time and brought her brain back into gear.

"Dress me."

Quinn moved with efficiency, pulling Santana's t-shirt, panties and skirt back into the normal position. She crawled off Santana's lap and back into the driving seat. The car pulled smoothly out and before they knew it, they were back in the high school parking lot. Santana grabbed the back of Quinn's head and pulled her in, thrusting her tongue between the girl's lips, tasting herself with every flick of the tongue. Quinn devoured her just as hungrily. The first warning bell for class rang. Quinn groaned and sat back, before unclipping the seat belt and climbing out. Santana wound her fingers in between hers and they strode across the lot towards the school. As they pushed through the shiny glass double doors, Santana pulled Quinn to her quickly, her face buried in the back of long, blonde hair, her lips grazing the soft erogenous flesh of her ears.

"Remember, don't touch yourself, don't fuck yourself, don't even wriggle in those hot soaked panties until I'm ready for you after school." She grinned, then flashed Quinn a devastatingly wicked smile that made her girlfriend quiver involuntarily. Santana held up a warning finger. "Don't even clench your thighs!"

Quinn groaned, then cross her eyes and giggled. "I'll see you after school."

"You bet you will baby," countered Santana, and with that left her ever-so-wet-and-horny girlfriend stranded with any number of heated scenarios running through her brain.

Quinn knelt on a hard piece of flooring, naked, head lowered towards the floor and hands passively in front of her in her lap, blonde hair slipping over her slender pale shoulders. Santana moved around her in circles with the stealth and danger of a jungle jaguar, dark and latent, oozing sex from every pore. They made a beautiful contrast.

"Did you touch yourself?" she said, her voice low and husky.

"No Santana."

"No Santana what?" came the curt reply.

"No Santana, I didn't touch myself."

"That's better." Santana continued to move around her prey. "Did you want to touch yourself?"

"Yes Santana, I wanted to touch myself. I wanted to touch myself straight away, but I didn't."

"How did that feel?"

"It hurt, Santana. I couldn't concentrate in class. My panties were wet all afternoon."

"You didn't even wriggle?"

"No Santana."

Santana lifted a pair of white lacy panties from the floor. "Are these your panties?"

"Yes Santana, those are my panties."

Santana moved them between her fingers. "They're very wet," she said, almost too low to hear. When Quinn said nothing, she snapped her hand around the long blonde locks and pulled her head back swiftly. "I SAID, they're very wet!"

Quinn's eyes shone widely but she still managed to keep them held to the floor. "Yes Santana, they are very wet."

Santana released her hold, Quinn's head returned to its submissive position. "Why are they wet?"

"Because I want you to fuck me Santana. I've wanted you to fuck me all afternoon."

Santana hummed to herself with pleasure. "I will fuck you Quinn, but first you have to earn it. Are you prepared to do as you're told?"

"Yes Santana." Quinns pussy burned, her skin was on fire. The thought of what she would receive at the end of play was worth anything that Santana might put her through. Besides, she loved what Santana would put her through, she craved it, she wanted it, she thoroughly enjoyed it.

"Stand up." Quinn stood silently, gazing down at her feet. "Place your arms behind your back." Santana moved to a small dresser and opened a draw. Inside lay a treasure trove of pain and pleasure, excitement coursing through Santana's blood as she took them in slowly. What to use, what to use today? She picked out a length of rope, a few vibrators, metal collar, nipple clamps and a riding crop. Feeling the weight of them in her hands, she smiled darkly to herself. To see her lover take all this from her, because she wanted to, gave her more pleasure than almost anything else in the world. She stood behind Quinn, who held her wrists away from her body to be secured in place. "Good girl," murmured Santana, and looped the hessian rope in and around until Quinn was firmly trussed up. Walking in front of her, she placed her hands gently on Quinn's shoulders and backed her up against the wall. Quinn kept her head bowed, knowing the look of pleasure and lust flashing across Santana's face as she willingly submitted. She felt her lover's body press up against her as her wrists were tethered to a small mettle ring set into the wall.

"Spread your legs, wide." Quinn placed each ankle exactly where she knew Santana wanted them. The slack of the rope from her wrists was used to lash her feet to two further rings at the base of the wall. Her body became flush against the concrete. Santana moved her fingers across Quinn's collarbone, sliding her hair down her back in a golden cascade. Still Quinn kept her eyes lowered. The cold bite of metal encased the soft skin of her exquisite neck, and within seconds her head was bought back and attached to a fourth, and final ring. Then, and only then, did she bring her gaze up to meet Santana's.

The dark beauty surveyed her work. Nothing would ever prepare her for how majestic and powerful Quinn could look when she completely offered up her control. She stood back and drank in every last inch of Quinn's naked body, every curve, every muscle, every flush of colour growing before her eyes. That Quinn would trust her this implicitly was still a wonder to her, and something she would never take for granted. She saw Quinn's nipples tighten under her eyes, she smelt her arousal growing, the pheromones coming from every pore of this fantastical creatures body slammed into her senses and drove her close to the edge. She ran her fingers through her hair and let her body enjoy the sensations flooding over her. Then with an almost invisible shake, she reined it all in for her lover's absolute pleasure.

Quinn watched Santana react to her. So many subtleties that she'd learnt to study in these moments before she was taken on a journey of pain and pleasure, submission and control, love and ecstasy, giving and taking. She would give Santana herself tonight, just like so many other nights, she would open herself up physically, emotionally and mentally to everything the other woman wanted. Santana's hands moved to the table and she watched them settle on a pair of nipples clamps. Immediately her body jumped, her breasts swelling in anticipation. Santana's soft hands trailed across her skin, slowly moving across her shoulders, tracing the line of her collar bone, before cupping her left breast. She dangled one end of the clamp in front of Quinn's face, a dark smile growing.

"Do you want me to put this on you?"

It wasn't a question. "Yes Santana, I want you to put it on me." She pushed her chest out to offer up her body. Santana's fingers traced over her nipple, pinching and squeezing it until it stood huge and proud and ready. The cold clamp stung and Quinn gasped out. A hand seized her face hard.

"No sound unless I allow you."

"Yes Santana." Quinn bit on her lip as the sensation spread over her skin. Santana moved to her right breast. She held her breast as the second clamp encased her, but said nothing, made no sound.

"Good girl."

The pleasure from her pleasure was indescribable, and Quinn glowed. Santana lazily moved around her body, fingers tracing patterns across her stomach, down her arms, the back of her neck, the cheeks of her arse, every so often pausing to pull down on the chain hanging between her breasts, every so often testing her, every so often being shown Quinn's devotion to her mistress. Her skin tingled, shivered, sang, burned, her need began to swell again between her legs.

"Would you like me to whip you?"

"Yes Santana, I would like you to whip me." Quinn groaned softly. "I would like you to whip me very much."

"Well first I want you to do something for me. Will you do something for me?"

"Yes Santana."

"I want you to hold on to this for me." Santana picked up a vibrator, held it underneath Quinn's nose, and turned it on at its lowest setting. "I absolutely do not want you to drop this. Do you understand?"

Quinn nodded feverishly. "Yes Santana, I understand. I won't drop it." Her eyes locked into Santana's, who came dangerously low to her face.

"Because if you drop it Quinn, I won't be very happy." She moved to her ear. "If you drop it, I won't fuck you."

Quinn whimpered. "I won't drop it Santana, I promise." She could feel the need in her voice, she knew she was going to be begging before long. "I want you to fuck me Santana, I want you to fuck me."

"Good," Santana purred, and placed her hands over Quinn's sopping wet mound. Quinn did everything to fight the need to press down, to relieve herself, to feel Santana's fingers inside her. She felt the hard vibrating plastic enter her, filling her up, slowly humming against her walls. Her tits thrust forward, her stomach jerked, her muscles shaking, the walls of her pussy bearing down on the almost unbearable delight inside. "Don't. Drop it."

Santana walked away, swishing the riding crop in front of her, getting a feel for her tool. It swooshed through the air, having nothing to find itself against, such a small looking thing. Quinn knew just how much pain it could inflict, in the right hands. The vibrator pulsated, she closed her eyes and thrust her body forward proudly to take Santana's administrations. A low chuckle came from the other side of the room. "Ok baby, I'll give you what you want."

Crack! The crop whipped through the air and sliced across the soft flesh of her breasts. The chain between the clamps swung to and fro, causing sensations to pound deep inside her clitoris. She squeezed down on the vibrator to stop it from falling, in turn throwing her hips forward as the walls of her pussy fucked the tool of their own accord.

Crack! The crop landed across the tender skin of her right thigh. Crack! Her left thigh. Crack! Across her stomach. Crack! Down the side of her leg. Crack! Her left breast. Crack! Her right breast. Then soft tickles with the very tip on her nipples, slow strokes against the top of her pussy, firm movements up and down her legs with the shaft. Her head moved backwards and forwards with each touch, her ass thrust her pussy towards her mistress, her wrists and ankles strained against their restraints, her whole body physically begged for more. And Santana gave it. Crack! Crack! Crack! Harsh, then gentle, stinging, then soothing, Quinn's mind began to shatter, the only thing keeping it intact the concentration on holding her pussy tight enough inside to not drop it. Don't drop it. Don't drop it. Fuck me. Fuck. Fuck me now. Please Santana. She hadn't realised she was saying it all out loud. She hadn't even realised the whipping had stopped. She'd disappeared so far inside a hole of her own dark desire that she was almost lost to everything else. Just her, here, now, pussy, pain, pleasure, Santana, need, want, please, fuck me. The words tumbled from her mouth until a cool touch on her heated skin caused her to open her eyes with a startled flutter. Santana looked straight into her eyes and she felt like her heart stopped.

"Breathe."

Air rushed into her lungs. She gasped greedily. Santana's hand moved down between her legs and gently pulled the vibrator out. She felt empty. Santana pushed her body up against hers, and her hand returned between her thighs, holding her gently.

"What do you want Quinn?" Santana asked steadily.

"You," Quinn moaned desperately. "You, I want you." Her breathing was shallow and her voice ragged with emotion. "Please Santana, fuck me! Take me, take everything, take everything I am!" She pushed down on Santana's hand blindly, needing, searching for her lover. She felt Santana exhale against her neck, then her lips were pushed apart and Santana finally entered her. She cried out, her body twisting against the ropes, the chains, everything that held her away from what she wanted most in the world.

"Still yourself," Santana murmured, placing her other hand on the back of Quinn's neck. She moved directly in front of her, then slowly pushed a second finger in, a third, a fourth, as Quinn opened herself up as much as she could. "Are you ready baby?"

Quinn could only utter a noise from the very pit of her stomach. Santana filled her, her fist delving deep inside, stretching her out, moving slowly in a primal rhythm, now moaning herself against Quinn's skin.

"I love you Quinn, I love you so fucking much. You're so fucking beautiful, you're so fucking exquisite, you're so fucking mine." The need in Santana's voice rose. "Tell me that you're mine. Quinn, say that you're mine!"

Her whole body lit on fire, her being centred on the thundering climax building inside of her, she screamed out Santana's name and thrust herself with everything that she had onto her lover's arm. The world turned black then white, her skin fell off, her muscles clenched, her mind blew a thousand times over and all she could do was fill the air with the sound of Santana's name until she could speak no longer. Her body sagged against the wall, her legs buckled, a firm arm wound round her back to hold her close. Tears spilled across her face but she didn't care. Sobs wracked her body, emotions let loose in the embrace of this woman who took her places she'd never imagined could have been possibly. Gently, ropes were undone, collars were released, clamps were removed and with a final shudder, Santana withdrew from her. Quinn collapsed in a heap, Santana wrapped around her, stroking her hair, whispering her name, holding her close, protecting her from the world. Dampened skin close to dampened skin. Her eyes finally opened, focusing on the only thing she ever wanted to see. Santana smiled down at her.

"You're mine."

That was all she ever wanted to hear.


End file.
